


Snowy Adventures and Singing

by LeeMorrigan



Category: The Alienist (TV)
Genre: F/M, I have never read the books, Icy steps create romantic opportunities, John Sings, John is kind, John's gran is mentioned often, Laszlo has a kid get loose, Laszlo has an awesome nurse caring for his bigger kids, Mentions John's late brother, Sara compliments John, Sara thinks, Sara thinks about what married life might be, Snow, Too kind for his own good, and bruises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 17:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20510528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeMorrigan/pseuds/LeeMorrigan
Summary: John and Sara arrive to a dinner Laszlo invited them to, only for them to learn one of his older kids had escaped. The two go help Laszlo and Cyrus. During this rescue, John's talent for singing is required as part of the rescue. On the way home, Sara does some thinking about her experience visiting a relative of hers who lives alone in a home they have rarely left for over 15 years.





	Snowy Adventures and Singing

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I've never read the books so anything about John, Sara, etc.'s backgrounds is either from the show or my imagination.
> 
> Second, the second song that John sings is actually a lullaby and not a Christmas carol. It is called ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT (not to be confused with the Cindy Louper song), and it is an old Welsh lullaby that I was introduced to through the final SARAH PLAIN AND TALL movie. Beautiful tune, can be found on YouTube.
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Mentions sleeping in the arms of someone you love/who loves you, Laszlo gets bitten by one of his kids, Sara takes a fall, but otherwise there are a couple quick mentions of the events in the show and mention of a couple accidents with horses/carriages.

John helped Sara down from the cab, the snow causing him to worry for her footing. It had been snowing, almost without pause, since early the morning prior. Sara offered him a nod of thanks as they made their way up the stairs to Laszlo’s home. He had called for them to join him for dinner, as he had something of great importance to discuss. John had a terrible feeling it was regarding a new series of attacks, these ones violent though not fatal as yet.

“Do you think he wishes to talk to us on the matter of the beatings that have been occurring downtown?”

“A likely cause for the invitation.”, John muttered as he moved to ring for the door.

After a couple minutes, when no one answered, John tried the door. It opened easily. Normally, he would have asked Sara to step inside first, however there was something that made him feel the need to check first. A tension in the air. Sara was close behind him as he moved forward.

“Laszlo?”, he called.

“Mr.Moore?”

John turned, finding the one nurse Laszlo had for the children in his care. Mrs.Haggerty was a kindly widow woman, with a gift for difficult children. As Laszlo explained, she was particularly adept at dealing with the boys who had trouble communicating. At present, she looked half-wrung out and nervous as a new bride.

“Mrs.Haggerty, what is the matter?”

“Oh, Mr.Moore, one of the newer boys – Hubert, he escaped. He was in such a frightful state, I had come to call Dr.Kreizler for assistance when the boy burst from his room and disappeared down the street. Cyrus and Dr.Kreizler went to fetch him back, but that was almost an hour ago, and I am fearful of what Hubert may have gotten into.”

“Is he violent, or more the type to get into trouble because he will not stand up for himself?”, Sara asked of the older woman.

“Oh, no. Dear, no. Hubert is rarely violent, less so since coming here. His father says he was quite dangerous before, biting people and hitting quite hard for someone so young. Dr.Kreizler has turned him ‘round. Got him acting much more like a regular boy, ‘cept for a behavior here and there. He still is rather quiet and he does get upset easily for someone of his age. I would worry more than someone might upset him and he might react poorly, not meaning to harm anyone.”

“Did you see which way they went?”, John asked.

Mrs.Haggerty nodded, moving to the door and pointing as she directed them.

“First, they went down that way. Another little boy, one rather attached to Hubert, he said Hubert wanted to see the snow in the park, and had said he was going to go and see it. Dr.Kreizler and Cyrus went that way to find him.”

John began moving, intending to flag down another cab and get the man to drive him to the park, so he might lend aid.

“Mr.Moore, please, be gentle with him? Poor boy does not speak like a normal boy of his age, he sounds as if he were only a wee one. Three or four at the most, and it makes people laugh at him. He cannah abide being laughed at.”

John nodded, grateful of the warning.

“Thank you, Mrs.Haggerty. I promise, we will help look for him and bring him back to you.”

Sara walked with John, barely keeping up in her heels and skirts. Blasted fashion, she thought, as she nearly slid on the walk. John caught her easily enough, helping to stabilize her with one hand as he flagged a cab with the other. John being John, helped her into the cab before almost leaping in behind her and shouting out their destination to the cab driver.

“With haste, good sir!”, he added.

The cab took off in a great lurch, making Sara glad she had chosen to sit facing the driver. They raced to the park with a reckless disregard for the proper decorum of driving in the city. It took several minutes before they arrived near the park, only to find there had been an accident ahead, cutting them off from the direct route to the park. John stepped out, paying the driver a handsome sum for such a short ride.

“Thank you sir, we can walk from here.”

“Suit yourself, sir.”, the man commented quietly.

John reached for Sara’s hand as she emerged. /the accident appeared unrelated, although it may have impeded either the attempts Laszlo and Cyrus to find the child, o to return with him to the school. Sara moved to a bench and began to move to stand on it, to allow herself a better view.

“What are you doing?”, John asked.

“I’m trying to see if I can spot Lazslo’s carriage. If they already found Hubert, they may have gotten held up when they tried to leave.”

“Good idea. Here.”, John helped her move to stand on the short wall behind the bench, giving her another foot and a half advantage.

“See them?”

“Not a sign. They must have parked elsewhere to go look for the boy, or have taken a different route back. We should look around first, to see if they are still here.”

John nodded as he helped her down. Moving further into the park, they looked about for their friends and the child. John had a vague memory of meeting the young boy, some weeks back, as the boy had bee one of three children Lazslo had brought over to play the piano. A little girl named Eliza, who spoke with a severe lisp, had played like an angel beside Hubert. Another girl, in her early teens, who introduced herself as Ana, had played afterwards and was showing the two younger children a new song to play. As John recalled, the point of the exercise was proper socialization in a safe environment, to allow the three to share something they considered fun and had no negative association for them.

“Have you met Hubert?”, John asked.

Sara looked around a large tree, making sure the child was not hiding in a lower limb, as she might have when she was a young girl.

“No, I have not. You?”

“Yes. He’s not as little as Mrs.Haggerty makes him sound. Hubert is 14 and stands almost as tall as Lazslo, with a wiry build and is quick.”

Sara looked over at him for a second, her brow furrowed.

“Mrs.Haggerty made him seem as if he might be 9, at most.”

John smiled fondly as he and Sara continued to look.

“Mrs.Haggerty immigrated to America about 12 years ago with her husband and two children. Her husband died shortly after they arrived, and her two daughters are now grown with their own husbands and children. Five years ago, she came to Lazslo and asked if he needed more nurses, as there had been word one of his nurses quit. When he saw how she was with one of the teenaged children, known to be violent and turbulent, he hired her on the spot. She has a gift for the bigger children who most are too afraid to work with.”

“She sounds special.”

“She is. She’s also one of the few who have been allowed to tend Lazslo when he has had a need of more than someone to button his boots.”

“I imagine he would be very self-isolating when ill.”

“Yes.”, John agreed as they came around another corner to find a few water fixtures that had been turned off for the winter season.

“He is especially wary of coming near the children or their caretakers, when he is feeling poorly. He does not wish to have the children catch whatever is ailing him. Mrs.Haggerty sent Mary to help at the school, and had Cyrus fetch her whatever was needed as she took care of Lazslo when he was very ill, two years ago. For a week, she stayed in or near his room, making sure he did not come to some harm. His fever had been very high and he had been riddled with tremors from the fever, so she did her best to keep him from getting a chill and to force him to drink copious amounts of water.”

Sara nodded, finding that such a woman was a fierce woman to be respected. Admired even, for forcing Lazslo to do what she required of him rather than being his own master. Sara would have to admit, as she had seen Mrs.Haggerty in the hall at Lazslo’s home, that there had been a warmth and kindness about the woman. Though, somehow, Sara did not doubt the woman’s steel.

“There is a little alcove over here, we should check it.”

“Why there?”, Sara asked as she followed John.

“Several of the trees are perfect for climbing and they give you an excellent view of a good chunk of the park from the safety of the branches.”

“Does Hubert like to climb trees?”

“All little boys like to climb trees. Especially scared ones.”

The pair continued to walk through the park, towards the climbable trees. Sara kept her eyes peeled for any sign of a teenage boy not dressed for the weather, Lazslo, and Cyrus. The park was rather large, though she had to admit with as much ground as they had covered and owing to John’s logic about these trees, she felt they ought to soon find Hubert. That was of course, if Hubert was still at the park and assuming the boy had not gone elsewhere. They had only chosen the park because a friend of his said he talked about the park.

They had just gotten to the area where the trees were when they heard an animistic growl. The voice that made it was human. Turning, Sara and John could see Lazslo and Cyrus off several yards away, with a teenaged boy between them, crouched low. Unfortunately, there was also a crowd of people around, forming a circle that the boy, Lazslo, and Cyrus were trapped inside of.

“Oh no.”, John muttered as he moved forward.

Sara followed, unsure what John’s plan might be, if he had one. She was determined. They would get young Hubert back to Mrs.Haggerty’s care and away from these gossiping, mindless people. John shoved his way through the crowd, though without shouting, despite the whispers, laughter, and other sounds in the gathered crowd. Sara stayed close behind, holding onto his jacket to try to make sure she could follow behind him. There was no doubt, due to her size, she would not be able to get through the tightly packed crowd with them being so tightly packed for their free show. She needed to make sure of John’s size, determination, and lack of care for the opinions of others at times like this.

“Lazslo?”, John asked.

“Stay back, John!”. Lazslo directed, using his cane to emphasize the point.

Hubert turned, his nose bloody and his arms scratched. Sara guessed he must have fallen from the tree he had been up in. What exactly had drawn in the crowd, she did not know. Just as Lazslo reached out towards Hubert, a snowball came flying and hit Lazslo, causing him to break eye contact with Hubert. The next, only a second later, hit Hubert square in the face. The boy growled again and then started to jump towards someone in the crowd. Cyrus dove forward, getting a good hold of the boy to try to stop him.

CRACK!

Cyrus fell back, his nose bleeding profusely and his knees buckling. Lazslo tried to move towards Hubert only for the boy to struggle against Lazslo, biting Lazslo’s forearm through his jacket and coat, to try to get out of his grip. John stepped forward and Lazslo called for him to stop.

“Stop, John, no.”

“What do you want me to do?”, John asked as Sara moved to check on Cyrus, who lay on the ground, his nose still bleeding terribly.

“Sing!”

“What?”

“Sing, John! Or leave.”

Lazslo continued to struggle with the boy as John stood for a beat, seemingly torn between the silly-sounding command and the earnest desire to help his friend and the boy. Then, his voice gentle, John began a Christmas carol. Four words in, Sara could see the change coming over Hubert. And, the more calm Hubert grew, the more quiet the crowd became. Soon, the crowd seemed to thin and dissipate a bit, allowing Sara and John to help Cyrus to his feet as Lazslo lead Hubert off towards the entrance to the park. Hubert was calm and Cyrus had both Sara and John’s handkerchiefs shoved into his bleeding nose as John finished singing the closing of GOOD KING WENCESLAS.

John switched to a new carol when he ran out of words for the old one, and this one was a bit softer. Sara did not recognize the newer song, though she loved the words and the softness of John’s voice as he sang it. It had been a very long time since Sara had last heard John sing. Long enough to forget what a wonderful voice he had. In her defense, however, that last time she had heard him, he had been drunkenly singing with his brother at his brother’s birthday party.

They arrived at Lazslo’s cab and Lazslo guided Hubert up into it, Cyrus next, and Lazslo moved to the driver’s seat. Sara noticed that John had not stopped singing, though he appeared to be singing in a new language rather than English.

“You may stop, John.”, Lazslo said tiredly.

John nodded as he ceased the song. The two men looked at each other for a second before Lazslo smiled a bit.

“Thank you, John.”, he looked over at Sara and gave a nod, “And you.”

With that, Lazslo drove the cab off to return Cyrus and Hubert to the house, leaving Sara and John standing in the snowy night. They watched for a moment longer, as Lazslo moved the cab around, avoiding the few bystanders left to watch the last dregs of the accident being cleaned in the street.

“I suppose I should get you home before your reputation is tarnished.”

“Oh John, I think we are long past anyone believing me an innocent flower. Come, let us get a cab and go see to Hubert’s reunion.”

He offered her a small, tired smile as she walked forward and left him in her wake. He caught up with three steps, owing to his longer, less impeded legs. Blasted women’s fashion condemned her to shorter, more careful steps. Sara did her best to ignore the need of care for her heels, as she moved to flag down a cab for them. It took only a few moments to catch one, giving him Lazslo’s address before climbing into the carriage, with John ever ready to assist her if she had a need of him. Once he climbed in behind her, Sara regarded him. He was busy looking out the window at the Christmas adornments and couples walking under the lamp lights, and as such seemed unaware of her scrutiny.

Sometimes Sara would forget how much John had changed. In many ways, she still saw him as the wealthy, idle, artistic, hopeless romantic that she had known him to be in years past. Naïve to the cruelty of the world around them. Protected by his wealth, education, and sex, from ever feeling as pinned-in and trapped as she did. Then in rapid succession, his father disgraced the family, his grandmother had fallen in her house so John moved in with her to help care for her while she recovered, his brother drowned on the family boat while attempting to get away from the scandal still raging over their father’s actions, and then John’s fiancée left him in favor of a known womanizer.

Yet, despite his drinking and his heartbreak, there was still a kindness to John Moore. He had a temper, for sure, and could be rather unreasonable at times. Even silly. Yet, for all he had gone through and for all he had seen at Lazslo’s side in the past year and a half, he had not lost that kind heart. Sara was not silly enough to be unable to see the true reason why she had often been so cold, even cruel, to John. She was fighting to remind herself of all the reasons there were not to fall for him, not to care deeply for this kind, sensitive man. And John, kind man that he was, would never give censure to her for it. He would simply take it from her, and retreat into himself. Seeing his self-recrimination had stung her in ways she did not expect.

Now, sitting in the cab with him, the light of passing lamps barely illuminating his face, Sara saw him with a new clarity. He had gotten a good number of grays hairs and a number of lines in his face, in the years she had known him, yet she felt that they did nothing to detract from his handsomeness. In fact, the lines highlighted those warm, kind green eyes, and the gray hair made his stubborn curls more obvious in his otherwise raven hair. His smiles were frequent around her, as well as the children Lazslo sometimes brought into the main house to enjoy his well-tuned piano or to practice their manners a bit when they were soon to be going home for a holiday or permanently. Sara wondered how many others might permit their friend to use them as a kindly guest, to help guide children with disturbances and emotional imbalances, the way John did.

“Sara, if you are going to continue to stare at me, at least speak so I do not feel as if I were a specimen in one of Lazslo’s jars.”

She was startled. He had caught her. Though his slight teasing tone almost distracted her from the tiredness of his posture. He had seemed tired when he came to pick her up for dinner at Lazslo’s, before their search for Hubert.

“I’m sorry. I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“Nothing you would find interesting.”

John turned to her, his face hidden in shadow. She could only guess at his expression.

“Nothing that could have you so captivated, could ever be boring to me, Sara.”

“What if I were thinking of what color dress I might wear to my next college reunion?”

“I would enjoy hearing why you preferred the purple to the green, or why you had such a distaste for the amber gown your maid suggested.”

“Really?”

He smiled, she would wager, by the sound of his voice.

“I might also imagine what you looked like in each. Weighing the pros and cons of each gown, and finding all of them lovely when you wore them.”

He looked down and away.

“That was improper. I apologize.”

She shook her head at him.

“John, please do not feel the need to apologize for saying something nice, even if it is improper or even scandalous.”

“I should be more mindful.”

“Not with me. Not when we are alone, with no one to hear the honesty you are prone to.”

“I thought you believed me handsome but indolent. And a drunk?”

“On days when I am being most uncharitable and am feeling not at all kindly disposed to my fellow man, I might think that. Though only for a moment. Then I remember other things of you, and I am reminded that you are not what I had thought.”

“Then you do not think me handsome?”, he teased.

She shoved his arm with her hand.

“I think you too handsome for anyone’s good. What I do not think you is indolent, or a drunkard. You have some mightily bad habits and more than a few flaws. Neither take away from what you are, John.”

“And, in your opinion, what am I?”

Sara could joke. She could tease him. It was very tempting to do anything except tell him the truth. However, he deserved the truth.

“I think you a good man, John Moore. Kinder than most of us around you deserve, more patient than a good number of Catholic saints, and self-sacrificing enough to make a holy man give you a nod.”

“Now I am left to wonder if you are the drunk one.”

“I know, I have been rather cold to you, and seeing your response to my rare compliment, I understand better how cutting I have been in the past.”

“Turning over a new leaf?”

“Not likely. Just a moment of clarity.”

He nodded, not asking for more or requiring her to explain herself. Something else she admired about him, when she was of a mind to see him in a warmer light. All too soon, they arrived at their destination and John paid the driver before helping Sara down. Inside, Lazslo sat in his parlor with a contemplative look. Cyrus, Mrs.Haggerty, and Hubert were nowhere to be seen.

“Dr.Kreisler, how is Cyrus?”

“He is well, Ms.Howard. Ms.Ambrose has seen to his nose and his swelling face. Hubert was returned to Mrs.Haggerty’s care with a request she sing the ‘all through the night’ song to him. She knew it, fortunately, and has been singing it to him since she returned with him to his room.”

Sara nodded. John walked in behind her, taking her coat and his own to hang them up before crossing to Lazslo’s side.

“And your arm?”

“Bruised. He did not break the skin through all the layers of cloth.”

“That is good. What happened? To draw the crowd?”

“He was climbing with two other children and fell. The other children laughed at him and he began to growl at them. That was the best I was able to ascertain before he began charging at the crowd and we had to attempt to restrain him.”

John moved to the small tea pot sitting nearby, indicating that he would pour for Sara and Lazslo, if they desired a cup. Lazslo pointed to one he was already nursing and Sara shook her head. Sometimes, the relationship between John and Lazslo could be so normal, it almost gave Sara a fit in her mind.

“Will he be alright?”, Sara asked.

“Hubert will recover, I am sure. Mrs.Haggerty may tie a rope to his waist for a few days, if not somehow persuaded otherwise, though I am sure she will also recover in time.”

“Good. She was terribly worried when we arrived.”

“The meal I had meant to share with you is cold now, perhaps we should try again tomorrow when we are all rested and warm again. Our old friend has asked us to consult in another case.”

“That can wait till tomorrow?”, Sara asked.

“No one has died, as yet, so it is not as high a priority as our last endeavor was.”

“In that case, goodnight Dr.Kreisler. I will see you for dinner tomorrow.”

Lazslo nodded, and John shook his head at the both of them.

“If you have need of me, ring.”

“I will. Go home, John.”

“Of course, Good Doctor Kreisler.”, John quipped back sarcastically enough to let Lazslo know he was being teased as John went to retrieve his and Sara’s coats.

Sara felt the warmth come back as John helped her slide back into her coat. She buttoned up as he slid his own over his shoulders and moved to get the door for her. Sara flagged down their cab and allowed John to hold her hand as she got up into the cab. John gave her address to the driver before coming in behind her.

“Your home is closer.”, she said as he sat.

“Yes. We’re going to drop you off first. I want to make sure you are delivered safely. Then I shall be able to get a good night’s rest.”

“And be able to face your granny.”

“Yes.”, he said without missing a beat and having no shame in his smile, admitting to such a thing.

“You really do care to keep her from worrying, John.”

“She is nearly all I have left. And I would not wish to take away any joy from her in her final years. I would have her happy and contented, or as much so as I can afford.”

“What, not going to marry some society girl she has picked out for you, and give her a gaggle of grandchildren to keep her busy and happy?”

“I have no desire to marry any of the girls she had trotted out for me.”

“I would not doubt it. I have seen how bored you are when you try to talk to them. I fear you even miss entire portions of the conversation because you are asleep with your eyes open.”

“That is not inaccurate. I feel bad, of course, as I should be paying better attention to them. My rudeness does not help matters. It mostly succeeds in making my granny’s friends become angry with her for their daughters and granddaughters having to endure me.”

A slight chuckle escaped her lips. John arched an eyebrow at her that she saw only because of a fortunately timed lamp post.

“Sorry, John. The idea of some poor girl being forced endure you. Even on my worst day, I would not have thought of your company in quite those terms.”

“No, you would think the poor girls forced to endure my rudeness while being required to put themselves on parade.”

“I would think those poor girls, they have no idea what they will be missing, because they have not been permitted to be honest and interesting ever in their lives, and you have never acquired a taste for boring, quiet ladies.”

“That almost sounded like another compliment, Ms.Howard. Have you suffered a knock to the head I am unaware of?”

“No. My time visiting my aunt in New England, did have some impact. Not of the physical kind though, I assure you.”

“She did not shout abuses or something of the sort?”

His concern was touching, but unwarranted. Her aunt was practically a spinster. She had married fresh out of finishing school and been married only two weeks when her husband died in an accident on his horse when he went for a morning ride at the country house they were staying in for their honeymoon. Her aunt never remarried, she never kept company with any man, and she often left her home only for family events such as Sara’s Christening.

“She could not have been more kind, John. You needn’t worry. In fact, listening to her talking about her life, her regrets, and her late husband, it made me think of some things from a new perspective.”

“Such as?”

“How cold I can be. She lived her life in near-isolation from the world, speaking only with her staff, a few friends who would come to visit her, and me when I came or wrote. I do not wish to be her age and have had my life pass me by, nor do I wish to be so alone as to talk to the walls in order to have conversation. I saw how she had a few friends, owing to her own kind nature, who still came to sit with her of an afternoon to discuss the weather, children, books they have read, or something from the newspaper. I realized that I am not so kind as to inspire such friendship and if age, injury, or something dire ever bound me to my home as she has chosen to be, I would not have a line of friends who came to visit me.”

“I would visit you.”

Turning her head, Sara smiled at him.

“I have come to realize that. And, as such, have realized that I need to at least attempt not to be so cruel towards you when I am in a foul mood.”

“You needn’t worry, I have learned that it is not always personal when you growl.”

“I know I will never cease to growl, I only seek to be a little more open about my compliments, teasing, and my general thoughts, instead of being open only in anger.”

They sat for a moment in silence before Sara felt the need to break the tension of that silence.

“Your singing was beautiful.”

“Pardon?”

“Tonight, for Hubert. The song was lovely, though I did not recognize it.”

“My grandmother taught it to me. Her Welsh father used to sing it to her, and when we were ill or our growing pains reduced my brother or I to tearfully gripping our pillows, she would sit there and sing to us quietly. That was a favorite of hers.”

“And the other language you sang it in, the ordinal Welsh?”

“Yes. She was smoother than I, though I think I did it justice enough that someone who spoke the language would understand most of what I said.”

“It was lovely. I had forgotten what a talented singer you were.”

Turning to her, he eyed her for a moment.

“When did I last sing where you would hear it? I do not recall such an event.”

“Your brother’s birthday party, I do not recall his exact age. I was 18, and was home for a holiday that coincided with the birthday party. Your grandmother invited me.”

“She’s always liked you.”

“I’ve always liked her.”

“Why do I not recall this singing?”, John muttered, seemingly to himself.

“You were rather inebriated and you had taken to standing on a bench with your brother, the two of your singing more loudly than skillfully, of sea-fairing adventures, lost loves, and treasure.”

His chuckle was warm in her ears. She was glad to hear him happily recalling a time with his brother. It had been a sore spot for so long, most danced around the topic if they approached it at all.

“Perhaps someone should tell your grandmother that you are interested in caroling this year.”

“You wouldn’t!”, he started.

Sara only grinned. John sat back, adjusting his coat.

“You would.”, he groused.

“I might. However, I think you would enjoy yourself.”

“If you tell her that, I will find a way to force your involvement.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll get you to have to come out with me and sing. Perhaps I should inquire if you will do it, while we are in front of one of your old classmates, and issue it as some sort of dare.”

“You know me too well and you abuse the knowledge.”

“Turn about is fair play.”

“Infuriating man.”

He grinned as the cab pulled to her door. Moving, John offered his hand to her and this time Sara refused to take it and climbed down unaided. Narrowing her eyes, she wished John a curt goodnight before heading up her stoop to her door. Except, in her haste, she failed to take note of the ice across the bottom stairs and was soon flying freely in the air. Her hands sought anchor and her feet had no purchase. Then, as she awaited the impact with the solid ground or the pointed edge of a stair, she felt two arms wrap around her and then a warm chest against her back, before she fell. Instead of the hard, solid brick of the street, she landed on something softer. And warmer. Then, as she moved to sit up, the full scene became clear.

John had moved to catch her and unable to stop her or perhaps because he also stepped on the ice-covered steps, he had fallen with her on his chest. He had moved to protect her from the fall, allowing himself to take the brunt of the fall, as well as likely ruining his coat on the snowy, dirty streetside. Sara turned, checking John’s face and head. His hat had fallen off though she saw no sign of blood. The dark did nothing to help her.

“John, are you alright?”

He nodded, his breath coming in a gasp. She realized he had knocked the wind out of himself in the fall. Sara stood carefully, trying to avoid John’s coat and legs, the icy steps, and the edge of her skirts.

“Here.”, she offered a hand to help him up.

Gingerly, he moved to stand, Sara holding his hands to help keep him balanced. Once he was up, she moved to get his hat and put it back on his head, which brought her in such close proximity to him that she was once more very aware of those dark eyes.

“Are you alright?”, he half-wheezed, still trying to catch his breath.

“I feel I ought to be the one asking _you_ that question.”

“I’ll survive.”

“So will I, John.”

He smiled.

“Go on in, I’ll wait till you’re behind the door.”

“Call when you get home, so I may know you did not pass out in the cab, from your injuries.”

“Is that an order?”

“Yes.”

She walked up the stairs, more carefully this time. True to his word, John waited till she was inside and had waved to him from the window of her sitting room, before he climbed slowly back into the cab and headed home. Sara dutifully stood watch by the telephone to await the call. She did not have to wait long before it rang and she answered it to find John greeting her.

“I made it home.”

“Good.”

“Granny is worried after seeing the state of my coat and hat.”

“Are they salvageable?”

“I would assume.”

“Well, let her fuss over you and then get some sleep, John.”

“I will. Goodnight, Sara.”

“Goodnight, John.”

As Sara headed up the stairs to her room, she thought about the events of tonight. She especially thought of their conversation on the way to Lazslo’s.

“Miss?”

She turned to her maid, Lizzie, with a smile.

“Yes?”

“Is there anything else you might have a need of before I retire?”

“No, thank you. Goodnight, Lizzie.”

“Goodnight, Miss.”

Lizzie curtsied before turning and heading down the stairs. Sara moved to her bedroom and removed her robe and combed out her hair to braid it and then curl up in her bed. John’s comment, of picturing her in each dress, floated through her mind as she finished her braiding. Not for the first time, but in a rare indulgence, she pictured what it would be like if she had said ‘yes’ to a real proposal from John. She did not imagine the wedding or anything so frilly. Instead, she thought of the quiet moments away from public eye. Him watching her sort through outfits and picking out what she would wear to an event, of his teasing her over the breakfast table when he caught her reading the society pages, even of watching him sitting and sketching what he could see out the window as they vacationed in his family’s country house upstate. One new fantasy appeared to her tonight.

John, coming into the bedroom, clad only in his nightshirt. She braided her hair and climbed into a bed larger than what she had needed as a single woman. Waiting for her in it, was John Moore. He would open his arms to her, as somehow she was sure that John would indulge her every whim when it came to being touched, held, or just being close, when there were no barriers such as her reputation or conventions about public displays. She could almost feel the warmth of him under her cheek as she settled against his chest, his arms encircling her, and then the warmth of his lips pressing gently to her temple. She could feel the calm of knowing he was there, and then him whispering in her ear.

“Goodnight, my dear.”

She smiled into her pillow. Her pillow was nowhere near as warm or as comforting as John’s arms in her fantasy. None the less, she burrowed into it a bit more, trying to get warm under the layers of sheets.

“Goodnight, John.”, she whispered softly.

As she faded to sleep, she swore she could almost hear John singing again and she wondered, would John sing to his wife someday? She hoped so. She dearly loved hearing him sing.


End file.
